Once More
by Rigorin
Summary: A quick crossover battle between Isaac Clarke of Dead Space and Mr. A of Parasyte, plus two other random characters having a one-way conversation at the end. It's not hard, but cookies for recognizing them, since everyone is just giving them out anyways.


He had no need for the suit, but he wore it anyways.

There had to be something wrong with him. He'd never seen a necromorph like this one before, to where he couldn't even confidently say that it was a necromorph. It stalked him in the alleyways of the downtown city, where he had gotten to by... he couldn't even remember anymore. It was no time for that, anyways. He had to run.

His modified suit sped him up, fed him energy to run with, to sustain his own life. This wasn't something he thought he could beat, not with just the cutter that he held in his right hand. Any other necromorph, maybe. But not this one.

From behind him he heard the grotesque shifting and sliding of rapidly morphing organic matter, accompanied by a harsh chuckle akin to dry leaves being crushed.

"Hey, hey, you don't think just _running _will be enough, do you? At least fight a little. Maybe then I'll have a entertainment..." The morph's grin stretched, widened impossibly, reaching up to his ears and separating the teeth within. "...before dinner, that is."

A chunk of organic mass in the form of blade slammed down into the concrete along the suited man's path, causing him to stop. No turning away; he'd have to fight now.

"Hm? What's this? You're armed, aren't you? Looks pretty deadly. Why run away, then? Maybe you could manage to injure me." With these words, a blade of bone, shaped like a guillotine, flew towards the engineer. He only managed to dodge because his paranoia made him extremely jumpy, and he bounced to the side at the last second.

"Come on now. Fire a... a bullet, or whatever that thing shoots. I want to see what you've got," Mr. A growled. Isaac Clarke didn't hesitate to comply.

A small, vertical plasma charge flew through the air towards Mr. A, who quickly raised a single fleshy mass to block the meager attack. Such a maneuver, however, was in vain. The charge cut straight through the fleshy tentacle and made a cut in the side of Mr. A's head, much to his surprise.

"Hm? This is interesting. What does that weapon do, exactly? I've never seen anything like it." No response was given; only more charges. Hissing as the blasts struck his flesh, Mr. A drew back and slammed himself into a wall, giving himself temporary cover from the shots. Isaac used this as an opportunity to continue fleeing.

He didn't get far.

"Hey now, running away again?" Mr. A was in front of him now, suspended via flesh tentacles rooted in the buildings surrounding the narrow alleyway. Isaac drew back, but another mass of flesh flew out and struck him in the side, knocking him into a dumpster. The engineer fell to the ground on his knees, and his visor moved away as he coughed up blood.

"Is that all you can do? Foolish humans. Even to this day, I can't understand you. Why don't you just die?" A bladed mass shot off towards Isaac and struck him in the stomach, pinning him to the dumpster.

"Because seriously? I'm tired of you morons."

A blunt chunk of flesh struck Isaac in the side, sending him flying out from between the dumpster and the blade. He hit the ground flat, sparing no roll, no tumble, just a short slide – then a stop.

"What? Is that it already? This pisses me off." Mr. A brought himself the ground and began walking away. "He's not even worth eating. He's too impure, with all the drugs in his system."

At about this time, the sound of another charge being fired rang out. Mr. A paid it no mind at first, thinking perhaps it was a misfire. Then another charge rang out, at which point Mr. A noticed a suspicious lack of arm-shaped limbs. They'd been cut off entirely.

Before he could react, both of his legs were gone as well. He hadn't even known a mere human could be such a great shot. The parasite attempted to turn, to look at his attacker, but all he saw was a blinding light.

Isaac cleared his throat.

"I..." said the engineer. His voice was hoarse. "I'm tired of dealing... with things like you." It wasn't as though this wasn't obvious; it was. Everyone who knew him knew that he'd rather be doing literally anything other than dealing with this nightmare fuel on a daily basis. But it was so strong an idea, so engrained a thought that he simply _had_ to stop doing this, for his own good physical and mental health, that in a situation such as this, it was the only thing he could think to say.

Another shot rang out. Mr. A's head fell clean off his shoulders. He had no time to find a new host; he'd lost too much blood. Like every other creature that came to assault Isaac, the parasite simply keeled over and died.

Isaac coughed blood again. He had damage to his organs, but he'd likely be okay. The modified suit's protective features were barely enough to defend him from the blade to the gut, but his RIG still glowed red. It had been close this time.

Isaac, unlike some people, had no need for drawn out fights. He wasn't even a gunman or a samurai, those who dueled and finished in as little time as possible. He was only an engineer with really bad luck, and he didn't like to draw his fights out. Shooting, killing, and moving on; that was his style.

And that was what he'd do once more.

* * *

Two boys, both dressed in similar shades of white and gray, stood in a grassy field across from each other. The end of the flat terrain went out to what seemed like infinity, as no end could be seen; only the curvature of what was hopefully Earth.

Though the boys wore clothing of the same colors, their similarities ended there. One of them wore a hooded tunic and carried a magnificent sword; the other wore a t-shirt, and held only a modified walking cane. One was blonde with blue eyes and sun-tanned skin; the other was albino. One wore a shield around his wrist; the other, a choker around his neck.

One was a Hero. The other could only be described as a First Class Villain.

"Say, hero. You know about it too, right?"

The mute hero only cocked his head to the side.

"What I mean is... you know something's up. Do you remember how you got here? You don't, do you? Like in a dream. But you realize that something's wrong about it. It's because you know about magic." The villain kicked the dirt with the toe of his shoe. "So do I. Someone's casting a spell, for some reason, to make this happen. And it's not just us; there are a whole shitload of people trapped in the spell." The mute hero only nodded, and appeared to be listening intently.

"I don't trust very much, but why don't you help me find a way out of here? I kinda want to kill the bastard that did all this without asking me first, and we have to get to him before I can do that." The villain said, stretching his arms over his head as though this were the most casual situation in the world.

The mute hero thought it over for a moment, before nodding again. He didn't appreciate being pulled from his business, either.

"Good. So now that we're both in on this, let's try to get out of here as fast as possible." The villain said.

All the mute hero could do was nod again.


End file.
